


Seven O'Clock

by hunters_retreat



Series: The Clock Verse [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean goes with Sam to Stanford, M/M, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-28
Updated: 2009-07-28
Packaged: 2018-09-15 08:39:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9227036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunters_retreat/pseuds/hunters_retreat
Summary: Dean's keeping secrets, but then again, so is Sam.





	

 

Dean took a deep breath as he looked for his coat. He was going to run into Sam on the way out if he didn’t hurry. That was the last thing he wanted tonight. It wasn’t like he was trying to hide anything but, he just didn’t want to talk about it and he knew there was no way Sam would let this go. Besides, he could be reading this whole thing wrong anyway. It wasn’t like he was all that practiced at it. Not like this.

He found his denim jacket and threw it on quickly before heading out. He’d already left a note on the table for Sam letting him know he was going out for the evening with a friend so he wouldn’t worry. He’d been pretty clingy since the hunt he’d gone on. He didn’t blame him really because he’d have killed Sam for doing the same thing. Sam had reamed him good the next day and he still wasn’t sure why their Dad had been able to get that sort of a response from him. In the end, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to hurt Sam like that again and he wasn’t going to risk bringing hunting into his Stanford life. Jess and Richie had seen too much already.

The restaurant was close by but Dean never really felt safe anywhere without the Impala close at hand so he drove down the block to the public lot he knew was safe. He needed all the reassurances he could get tonight. He stroked his baby for good luck, then walked on, feeling more nervous than he had on his first hunt. When he got to the restaurant he realized he was the first there. He relaxed a little as routine set in. He assessed the place for exits and took in the nice casual atmosphere. He was just in jeans and a button down shirt, but they were new and clean and hadn’t seen seven kinds of supernatural filth yet. He had just enough time to get worried again before the door opened behind him. He looked back and smiled. “Hey.”

Richie smiled back. “Hey Dean.”

They stared at one another for a minute and Dean wondered what the hell he was supposed to do next. Sure, he was used to the game, but this wasn’t just a game anymore. He wasn’t entirely sure if Richie’s ‘let’s go out’ was friendly or a little more. He had the feeling Richie was interested in more than friendship. Dean wasn’t a stranger to men, hell he hadn’t been since he was 19 and he’d met that waitress with the really great looking boyfriend waiting in the booth at the end. Sex was easy. Dating was easy. Doing it and knowing that for bad or good, you were stuck with these people knowing you, that was another thing altogether.

He was about to open his mouth again when Richie’s eyes darted up slightly. Dean turned to see the hostess back at her station. She smiled politely at them both as Dean gave them their names and when Richie smiled at him, Dean motioned for him to lead the way.

 

Dinner was full of laughter and Richie was more than willing to share on a fair number of Sam-related accidents that his brother had been unwilling to share. He went on then to talk about himself and his family, what he was doing at Stanford, and how he wanted his life to have the happiness his father’s career and perfect little life had never given him. Dean nodded in understanding, though he didn’t really. Dean knew the illusion of the perfect life and all he ever saw when he looked at it were the things that crawled under the rocks on the way to the white picket fence.

He didn’t talk much about himself. He gave stories of growing up, but he was always careful about it. He and Sam weren’t brothers here, a decision that kept them off the radar of anyone looking for John Winchester and that kept any of his own previous indiscretions from finding him easily. It made story telling dicey so he kept to things he did when Sam hadn’t been around.

He seemed to manage just fine though and Richie didn’t seem to be getting bored. He just sat listening to Dean, encouraging him with laughter and subtle body language that continued to send Dean signals he wasn’t sure he should be getting.

When the check came, Richie grabbed it and sent it off before Dean could really protest. He did, because Dean wasn’t a charity case, but when Richie said he could buy him drinks until he was drunk off his ass, Dean decided to let it go.

It wasn’t until much later than he realized Richie had managed to get him to a bar and get him drunk. In fact, it wasn’t until he was pulling Richie towards the door of his apartment that Dean realized he just might have been played all night long.

Dean opened the door of the apartment and shushed Richie. “Sam…” Dean said softly.

“What about him?”

“Sleeping.” As if the darkness of the apartment didn’t explain it already.

“If I was Sam, I wouldn’t be sleeping if you were out with me.”

Dean shook his head as he closed the door behind him. Neither was all that sober but the walk home had given Dean a little more clarity than he’d had leaving the bar. Letting Richie come back with him instead of getting him a cab was already proving to be a monumental disaster. “Yeah? What would you do if you were Sam?” He asked.

As he turned around, Richie pressed forward, one hand on Dean’s hip as he smiled at up him. “Wouldn’t let you out the door without me.” He said softly. “Hell, wouldn’t let you out of my bed.”

Dean closed his eyes and let his head fall back. At least he hadn’t been reading the guy wrong the whole time. As much as Dean really wanted to get laid, as much as he liked Richie and thought they had pretty good chemistry, he realized he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t use Richie for meaningless sex and he couldn’t get involved with one of Sam’s friends. Not like that. There was just too much chance of things going south.

“Richie…” He took a deep breath trying to think of what to say.

Richie leaned in closer until their lips were a breath apart. “Yeah?” He didn’t wait for an answer though. He leaned up and kissed Dean, hungry and desperate. Dean reacted on instinct, pulling the other man closer before he even realized he should be pushing him away but the part that had wanted this was winning out over the part that knew how monumentally bad this could screw things up.

Dean wrapped his hands around Richie’s shoulders and flipped them around quickly, pushing Richie into the wall. Dean swallowed his groan from the impact, letting his tongue taste the sound as Richie scrambled for a hold on Dean’s arms. His grip was tight and Dean knew there were muscles underneath the layers he wore, could fell them pressing against him as he tried to get control. Dean didn’t let him and when he pulled away, looking at the other man, Richie smiled.

The smile disappeared quickly as his eyes focused on something behind Dean’s shoulder. Dean turned quickly, hunting instincts causing him to overreact as he turned to protect Richie from whatever was behind him.

And found himself staring into his brother’s angry eyes.

“Time to go home Richie.” Sam said, his voice tight but his eyes never leaving Dean’s.

“A little too much to drink and Dean said I could -”

“Call a cab. Phone’s right there.”

Dean wasn’t sure what was in Sam’s eyes, but he had to let Richie go. Damn, he knew this was going to turn into something, knew nothing good was going to come out of it as soon as he’d offered to let Richie crash for the night.

He kept his eyes on Sam, not about to lose a staring contest because he didn’t have anything to be ashamed of damn it. Richie called for a cab and stood behind Dean by the door. It was the best way to watch the street for a car pulling up but Dean doubted Richie chose that spot for that reason. He felt a hand on his back and Dean wanted to bat it away because this was going to be hard enough as it was, but at the same time he was hoping Sam wouldn’t notice it and anything he did would just draw attention to it.

When Sam finally lowered his eyes it was to turn away. He walked into the kitchen and started making coffee. When he came out there were two cups. He put one on the table and handed one to Richie. “Oughta sober up before the cabbie takes advantage of you.” He said it so sincerely that he almost missed the implied advantage Richie was taking of a drunken Dean. He wanted to lash out at Sam for that because even drunk no one was taking advantage of him, but Sam didn’t want to hear it and Dean figured the argument was better off behind closed doors. Instead, they sat in tense silence, Dean staring at Sam, Sam alternating glares between Dean and Richie, and the only sound coming from Richie sipping his coffee.

When the car horn came, Sam took the coffee from Richie and said a terse good night. Dean opened the door for him though and smiled slightly. “I had a good time.” He said softly. “I’ll call you tomorrow to… talk about this.” He hoped he didn’t say anything that would really lead him on because he wasn’t lying but he couldn’t let this happen again. It wasn’t that he couldn’t date, but dating in Sam’s close circle of friends, in their circle of friends, wasn’t smart.

“Talk to you tomorrow then.” Richie said. His voice was louder than Dean would have liked, but as Richie turned to leave, his eyes caught behind Dean and a smirk appeared on his face as he did so.

When the door closed Dean waited a minute before turning around to face Sam. He sat at the table, eyes focused on it as he scooted the coffee mug across for Dean to take.

He took a deep breath and forced his way across the room. He wasn’t sure what to do, but he didn’t like the silence and it was better than waiting for Sam to break it, so he started on his own. “What the hell Sammy? Nice cock block.”

“What the hell were you thinking? It’s bad enough that you’re going behind my back, but Richie? Jesus Dean, I would have at least thought it was Jess!”

“What? I thought I’d raised you better than that Sam. Thought you wouldn’t judge me like that.” He said, hovering over Sam.

“Sure Dean, I’d judge you for being gay.” He shook his head like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world and Dean would have agreed before the comment but now he was just plain confused. “At least Jess really cares about you.”

Dean shook his head. “You might not have noticed it but Richie and I get along just fine. We talk and yeah I think he cares.”

“He doesn’t Dean. He does this with every fucking thing and I won’t see you be the next on his list!”

“Sam-”

Sam stood away from the table then, stepping closer to Dean. “He does it with grades and teacher’s attention and girls and I won’t do this Dean. I won’t fight for your affection with him.”

“What the hell are you talking about Sammy?” Dean demanded.

“He just wants you because I do!” Sam yelled out.

Dean took a step back, gasping at Sam’s words and Sam’s mouth opened as if he could swallow the words back up. His eyes pleaded, pained and frightened though. “Dean…” his voice was just a whisper but he could hear the disgust and selt-hatred in the words. “He just wants you because I do.”

Dean looked at Sam, stared at the mouth he’d wanted to kiss for too long, and did what he thought was best. He turned and walked out the door before he could do any of the things he’d dreamed of doing to his baby brother. He could hear Sam behind him, hear Sam calling his name, but Dean was running as soon as he hit the bottom step. He ran until he couldn’t anymore and then he pulled out his cell. There was only one place to go now, one person he would call who could help him put the pieces of himself back together.

Even though it was late the call picked up after only two rings. “Hello?”

“I need to talk.  Can I come over?”

“Dean? Is everything alright?”

“No Jess. Nothing’s alright and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“God come over. Of course. Why are you wasting time calling me you ass?”

He hesitated because he shouldn’t be this needy, but outside of Sam she was the best friend he had. The only one outside of Sam and Richie and if what Sam had said was true… well then she was his only friend outside Sam. “I went out. Too drunk to drive.”

“Okay. Are you close to the coffee shop? I can be there in fifteen.”

“Yeah. Thanks Jess. I don’t know where else to go.”

“Go get something to drink Dean. Get me something too, something smothered in chocolate and we’ll call it even.”

When Dean hung up he didn’t know whether to sob at how fucked up everything had just become or if he should be amazed at how great a friend Jessica was. He let out a hysterical laugh, figuring it was a little of both, before making his way to the shop and trying to figure out when following Sammy to Stanford had become as twisted as a hunt.

 


End file.
